If Only I Were Older
by lifeisawesome
Summary: AU from 2x06. As the bullying and unacceptance starts to get at him, Kurt finds hope in the five-year-old he babysits. Kid!Blaine. Klaine Friendship and family. No pairings.
1. Miss Pillsbury

Kurt was really not in the mood to deal with Ms. Pillsbury at that moment. If he was only useful in his glee club as a spy, then he was going to be a spy. Rachel said he wasn't alone in glee club, but she was the only one to sing a duet with him and she was on the girl's team. Kurt didn't even like Rachel and the fact that she was his solace was frustrating.

He was a member of the team! He shouldn't have to go to some prep school to spy to feel like he was needed. Yet there he was, storming off to his car, so he could drive to Dalton Academy.

Even in a challenge Mr. Schue specifically altered to suit his styles, he couldn't shine.

He was fuming, and he didn't want to deal with the guidance councilor. Though she wasn't at the top, she still made the list of adults who had disappointed him.

She ambushed him with her doe-eyed enthusiasm and hopeful smile. "Kurt! Thank goodness, I've caught you!"

Kurt grimaced, but turned to face her. He may have blamed the entire faculty for not putting a stop to his bullying, but like Mr. Schue, she didn't see enough of it to actually help. Kurt had overheard Mr. Schue once saying she tried to get stricter enforcement of the anti-bullying policies.

She led him to her office and sat him down. "Give me one moment," she said as she carefully wrote something down on a slip of paper. Kurt shifted in his seat. Jeez, why was her office always so uncomfortable? He skimmed the titles of her outrageous pamphlets as he waited for her to finish. "My Lesbian Best Friend Loves Me Back, Now What?" What did that even mean? Where the in the world did she get those things?

"Here," she hummed, obviously pleased- either with the contents or the nearly typed print, he didn't know.

Kurt stared at it and tried not to make his bitch stare too obvious. _Charlotte Anderson._ Underneath was an address and phone number.

"And this is…?" he asked her, his brows furrowed.

"That. Is the telephone number and address of Mrs. Anderson. She's looking for a babysitter." Kurt stared at her and made a valiant effort to discover whether or not she was serious. It was to be determined.

"You can't honestly mean me?" Kurt was not good with children. They were too messy and crazy. And the only child he had ever known to care about their appearance was himself. Not to mention children usually hated him. Once he complimented a little girl on her adorable little princess costume while passing out Halloween candy and her only response was, "You sound like a girl." What an unruly little child she was. And Kurt thought he could pull off judging others when he was a kid.

"I know you have a lot on your plate right now, Kurt," she smiled, "But I really think you should meet this family. Right now the mother really needs a sitter and I mentioned you to her."

"Would she even be okay with my sexuality?" Kurt asked, slowly feeling himself caving in. He looked warily at the slip of paper.

"That's the best part!" Ms. Pillsbury clapped, "Mrs. Anderson is looking for an open-minded sitter! Here, let me call her for you." She made a quick phone call, as Kurt sat in his seat awkwardly. He probably shouldn't have said yes. He didn't want to at all. But McKinley was suddenly and quickly infiltrating all his retreats.

"Great," she smiled, "He'll be there soon!"

She turned to Kurt. "Would it be okay for you to meet Mrs. Anderson right now? I'll right you a pass to get you out of the rest of your classes."

Kurt agreed. It was a better idea than spying on some school anyway. Kurt got enough crap from his own glee club, he didn't need to worry about prep school boys giving him crap either.

He texted Finn to get a ride home and used his smart phone to look up directions when he stopped by his locker to get his books, happy to finally get out of his own personal hell.

After glancing once more to the meticulous script in his hand, Kurt knocked on the front door of the Anderson residence. While his heart did not leap for joy at the prospect of babysitting, anything would be better than having idea after idea shot down by the guys who were supposed to be his friends. Well screw them.


	2. Mrs Anderson

The door swung open to reveal who Kurt guessed to be Mrs. Anderson. He had long black hair that curled delicately by her shoulders. She was young enough and fairly beautiful, even in a tee shirt and sweats.

She smiled wearily, and let him in. "Hello, you must be Kurt. Ms. Pillsbury called to say you'd be babysitting for me? I'm Charlotte, let me get Blaine for you."

The home was nice, and only a little smaller than the houses his dad was looking at for when the "Hudmel" clan became one. Kurt tried not to be bitter when he thought of how today was such a perfect example of how they would never really be family.

Kurt sat down on the living room couch as he looked around. The house had lovely things, but Kurt felt as if everything truly expensive was put away or in the corner. Toys weren't littered everywhere, like he would have expected, but a giant stuffed dragon sat next to him on the couch. Kurt pet it as he heard a cry come from the hallway.

Kurt flew off the couch as a little being tackled the dragon from behind him with a battle cry.

The boy enacted a daring scene of great bravery and courage. He finally vanquished the legendary and terrible dragon with a final jab of his foam sword.

He turned to Kurt and smiled proudly, "Have no fear, my liege, the great Dalton knight has destroyed the dragon in your honor!"

Kurt began fanning himself and played along, admittedly playing the part of princess, "Oh, my great, brave knight!" he exclaimed as he leaned against the armrest of the couch, "You have saved my kingdom, how may I ever repay you?"

Blaine giggled. Nobly he replied, "My prince! It's my _job_! I'm the knight! I _have_ to protect you!"

Kurt got on his knees and pretended to swoon, "Oh, but I have to repay you!" He tugged at the scarf he had put on in the car and handed it to Blaine. Dramatically he enunciated, "For you. A token of gratitude from kingdom and myself."

Blaine took it and wrapped it around his waist. "Thank you!" he screamed as he once again shot off around the house, battling the evil monsters of the state.

Mrs. Anderson laughed from the edge of the wall where the living room and opening hall met.

Kurt blushed a little and brushed himself off as he stood up, "Normally I'm not so good with kids."

She smiled. "Normally Blaine isn't so extroverted around strangers. I'm sure you two will do fine."

She showed him around the house, pointing out where she kept the spare blankets, the first aid kit, and the medicine cabinet, as well as a few other vitals. They settled in the kitchen to discuss the details of Kurt's job.

Kurt would pick Blaine up from his uncle's house after school on days when he didn't have Glee rehearsal and watch him until Mrs. Anderson got back. A few times Blaine tried to interrupt the conversation, but each time Mrs. Anderson would tell him that mommy was busy and he needed to give her a minute. Blaine pouted and sulked away, but he perked right back up when Kurt told him they'd be able to play more when they finished.

Finally Blaine's antics got to be enough and the two decided they'd discuss more over the phone. The pay, though below minimum wage, was reasonable enough for Kurt, who didn't honestly expect as much as he was going to receive anyway.

Soon enough, Kurt began chasing Blaine around the house. He noticed quite soon that the kid loved jumping onto things. The taller it was, the more Blaine seemed to want to climb it.

As Blaine began to climb onto the drawers in the family room, Kurt glanced nervously to Mrs. Anderson, "Is he allowed to do that?"

She shook her head. "No. Not really. But letting him climb around here is the only way to make sure he doesn't do it at Kindergarten, and at least the carpet is super padded. My husband made sure of it the last time Blaine fell."

It was the first she had brought up Mr. Anderson, and though Kurt had noticed, he was more concerned with Blaine appearing to dive bomb onto the couch.

She saw his worry and said, "It helps if you take him out to the park. It usually tires him out enough so he won't climb on the furniture."

Eventually Kurt was dragged into chasing Blaine around the house until Blaine began playing a new game. "Okay, I'm the knight and you're the prince and I come and save you and we live happily ever after."

Kurt smiled down at him, "Don't you mean the princess?"

"Kurt, no," Blaine whined, "I don't want save a princess! I save the prince!"

"But why?" Kurt asked.

"Because! Everyone knows the knight saves the one he loves! I don't wanna love the princess!" Blaine stated, as matter of fact as kids his age can get.

Kurt looked up from his seat on the couch to Mrs. Anderson. She was smiling fondly like his mom used to when they played games and Kurt said he wanted to marry the prince. Though, Kurt was usually the Duke-in-Distress in those scenarios.

Kurt blushed happily. This was what gave him hope. He didn't want to hear it gets because he knew that. He knew he was going to get out of McKinley and go to New York and tear the city a part. But it was scenes like this that made the now not so crappy.

If Kurt had any doubts in his mind about babysitting, he let them go. Here was a kid who would grow up to fall in love with boys. And nothing was wrong with him. He was a perfect, adorable, excitable, rambunctious, confident child who would grow up to live in a world that wouldn't understand him. No, Kurt wouldn't let that happen.


	3. Mr Hudson

"You're doing it wrong!" Blaine squealed as Kurt enacted a scene from _The Princess Frog_. Kurt suppressed a glare and sighed.

"What am I doing wrong, Blaine?" Kurt loved Blaine, he really did, but babysitting was stressful and tiring.

"You have to do this!" Blaine demanded as he portrayed the scene. Kurt didn't know what he was watching or what to do, but he imitated it to the best of his ability.

"Kurt! Kurt. Kurt. Kurt, Kurt. No. Kurt," Blaine whined, "You're doing it _wrong_!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, exasperated, and tried again.

"Kurt! Fine, we'll play something else!" Blaine pouted. He picked up his _The Wizard of Oz_ coloring book. "We're gonna draw pictures!"

Kurt sat them down and pulled out the markers. Blaine scribbled while Kurt carefully filled in the lines of Glinda's dress. Blaine finished and pointed at it, "Kurt! Tear this out for me!" As Kurt tore the page out neatly, Blaine explained, "It's for mama, because the shoes are so pretty and she's really pretty. She's the prettiest girl I know." Then he looked at Kurt, "Don't worry, Kurt, you're really pretty, too. You're the prettiest boy I know."

Kurt decided not to take that as an insult and thanked him.

Blaine scribbled some more and had Kurt tear out a picture of a heart and the Scarecrow.

Blaine pointed out a picture of the Lion's badge of courage. "This one's for you because you're really brave and have courage and stuff," he said as smashed the marker against the page, ruining the tip as kids often do. "Mama says that you like boys, not girls, but that's okay, but other people are mean to you and that makes you really, really brave for not liking girls even though other people say you should."

Kurt ruffled Blaine's hair, touched. "This is going to go in my locker so I see it every day when I grab my books." Blaine beamed and motioned for Kurt to tear it out for him.

"Thank you, Blaine, this is really pretty," Kurt told him. He heard Mrs. Anderson come in through the front door and he began to pack up his satchel. Blaine squealed and ran to hug his mother.

"Mom! You're home! I made you a picture! Kurt! Kurt! Get the picture!" he giggled from the living room.

Kurt handed Mrs. Anderson the pictures as she squatted next to Blaine so he could explain them. This one, this one, it's for you because you're really pretty. And this one's for Uncle Wessie, because he's so smart and this one's for Daddy because he loves me the mostest and because I love him so much!"

"That's amazing, Blainers! I'm sure they'll love it! We can give this one to Uncle Wes he watches you tomorrow, and we can mail this one for daddy tonight. How does that sound?" Mrs. Anderson smiled tenderly, her feigned, but not forced enthusiasm exciting Blaine.

Kurt talked a little with Mrs. Anderson before he left. She had a wit about her that Kurt just found hilarious. She had a sense of humor Kurt could relate to as she described her work at the law firm.

Later that night, Kurt was irritated to find Finn's name on his caller ID. "Hello, Finn. To what do I owe for the extreme fortune of being interrupted from my nightly skin care routine by none other than Finn Hudson?" Kurt snipped, sarcasm seeping from his voice.

Finn bumbled on the other end and eventually asked Kurt to get them suits for tomorrow's performance. Kurt wanted to tell him no. He wanted to sneer, "No, Finn, I can't. I thought you didn't want my help," but he didn't. Kurt knew it was for Coach Bieste, and the guys might as well apologize to someone this week for their rude and unflattering behavior.

Instead Kurt expressed his extreme irritation at being informed he could be helpful after the fact and at having been told so late. He suspected the guys begged Finn to do it earlier, but Finn didn't because he felt too awkward. But whatever, right? At least Finn did it. And it wasn't like any of them thought they could still use his old crush on Finn against him. They didn't know about that time in the basement, but everyone noticed last year when Kurt stopped fawning over Finn's every action. _Right?_ Kurt grit his teeth.

None the less, he called the tuxedo rental, informed them that yes, he wanted the suits he cancelled after all, asked could they please be delivered tomorrow, and told them thanks, good bye.

Kurt screamed into his pillow and went to bed.


	4. Mr Hughes

Kurt shuffled into the apartment, head down, tail between his legs. He clutched the strap of his satchel like a life line and peered into Mr. Hughes' study. He knocked the doorframe to interrupt Mr. Hughes' concentration and let himself in. Mr. Hughes looked away from the computer screen bleary eyed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

Kurt would have been able to tell he had gotten most of his work done from his good mood. "Kurt! Hey, kid! You're lucky- I just got Blaine down for a nap. Little thing stated up all night his mom said to make you this," he smiled, holding up picture of the Lion, colored neatly in the lines.

Kurt nodded and tried to keep up his mask. He let out a shaky breath and took the picture. _Courage_, it said underneath. _Oh God_, he thought.

"Whoa! Hey, hey. Kurt, what's wrong?" Mr. Hughes asked him, concerned. "You look sick, hey. Come here, you're shaking. Come on," he mumbled, as he wrapped an arm around Kurt and led him to the kitchen.

Kurt followed him, though he protested, "I'm fine, really. It's nothing."

Mr. Hughes frowned. Kurt frowned in return. Mr. Hughes wasn't buying it.

They sat across from each other. Kurt kept his head down. He had to tell someone. It was going to kill him if he didn't tell someone. He obviously couldn't tell his dad. No, that could quite possibly kill his dad. His dad would have a heart attack. His dad was out. He couldn't tell Carole, because she'd tell his dad, and he couldn't tell Finn, because he'd tell Carole. He couldn't tell any of New Directions, because it'd end up with the guys getting in trouble for attacking Karofsky and somehow, of course, someone telling his dad.

Kurt swallowed. "Please don't tell my dad."

Mr. Hughes sighed, "Kurt…"

Kurt kept his head down. "I know I'm putting you in an awkward position. I'm sorry. But this is going to eat at me if I don't tell and my dad can't find out."

Mr. Hughes nodded in response. He would reserve judgment until he knew the whole story.

Kurt steadied his breath. "There's this Neanderthal, complete and utter caveman, in my class who's been making my life utter hell for the past few weeks. I've always been bullied, but all of the sudden he became feral," Kurt started, his voice shaking. "Today I just… snapped," he paused to take in a deep breath. "I completely let him have it, and he… and he…" Kurt struggled.

Mr. Hughes waited patiently. "Kissed me," Kurt whispered.

Mr. Hughes choked. Oh God. "Kurt… I mean, Kurt…"

"Kurt, you need to tell your dad," he said with finality. Kurt gave him a look. "No, Kurt. You need to tell him. Jesus Christ," he exhaled and looked toward the heavens. "Jesus Christ."

"He can't know, Mr. Hughes! He already had a heart attack once this year! Do you think he could handle this!" Kurt hissed.

Mr. Hughes looked Kurt in the eyes. "I will not tell him. Now. But you will. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but you will tell him. Or I will. I'll give you time, because I know where you're coming from. You do not know how well I understand. But he deserves to know the truth."

Kurt sighed. It was better than he expected. "Thanks."

Mr. Hughes ran a hand through his spiked black hair, "No, Kurt. God, I'm handling this all wrong. Are you afraid of outing him? Is that it? Because you can't jus-"

"No. Probably not. I just…" Kurt interrupted.

Mr. Hughes shook his head. "If this gets any worse. Any worse at all, you tell me. Either you tell me or you tell your father everything. Immediately, got that?"

Kurt nodded. Wes got up and grabbed him some leftover chicken soup he got from Mrs. Anderson. "Comfort food," he said.

He was forced to eat it, but he wasn't complaining. It reminded him of his mothers and he sat in his employer's brother's kitchen, feeling like he didn't have to go it alone for the first time in what felt like ages. Like he didn't have to screen the occasional harassing phone call from his dad, like he didn't have to pretend it didn't hurt when the Glee guys treated him like a girl, like he didn't need a boyfriend to feel normal, like… like he was a kid for once. Not the adult he needed to be.

Wes walked him to the couch and told him to take a nap. Kurt did so without protest, and fell asleep immediately.

He called Charlotte to tell her what happened. "Jesus, Charlotte, he looked so much like Blaine. So much. I couldn't tell him no. I know I should tell his dad and that it's inappropriate to let him sleep on the couch, but…" he trailed off, but continued stronger, "Charlotte, it was like I was seventeen again. I was begging you not to tell mom and dad what happened because it would have crushed them Charlotte, it would have crushed them. And I just couldn't tell Kurt I'd tell his dad because he's so, so much like Blaine, and I can't…"

Wes was tearing up, and Charlotte knew it. She whispered old condolences in his ear as she tried not to cry herself. The wounds weren't too old, they weren't old enough. Wes was probably going to call David after they hung up, and she'd have to email Alex.

Blaine Richards had been dead for over ten years. And shit, it did not get any easier.


	5. Princess Bubblegum

Blaine giggled as Kurt picked him up and twirled him around, "Kurt! Kurt! Higher! Higher!"

Kurt laughed and obliged. "Okay, okay," he said a bit breathlessly, "I can't do this anymore."

Blaine looked up at him, disappointed, "Why?"

Kurt fell into a heap on the couch. "Because I'm not strong enough to keep going," he said.

"Why?" Blaine asked, eyes trained on Kurt.

"Because I'm better at yoga and cheerleading, not rough-housing and heavy-lifting," Kurt responded, trying to regain his breath.

"Why?" Blaine asked.

"Because that's who I am," Kurt responded, unsure.

"Why?" Blaine continued.

"I don't know why," Kurt said, baffled. These were some pretty deep questions…

"But why?" Blaine whined.

Kurt laughed awkwardly. Kids! "I don't know. But weren't we going to make cookies? I'm pretty sure the oven is done warming up!" he deterred.

The distraction was successful and Blaine rushed to the kitchen. "Cookies! Cookies! Cookies!" he shouted trying to reach the mixing bowl. "Kurt! Kurt! Kurt! What kind of cookies are we making? Is it chocolate chip? Is it? Is it the kind with the nuts? Or the- the- the-!"

Kurt laughed at how he worked himself into incomprehensibility. He patted his head and told him they were making sugar cookies.

Blaine told Kurt those were his favorite kind of cookies and nodded solemnly.

As they baked, Kurt measured the ingredients and handed the measuring cups to Blaine to dump into the bowl.

Blaine sneezed into the bowl. Kurt tried his best not to start reprimanding him, but he would admit it still sounded kind of bitchy when he told Blaine, for the fourth time at least, to sneeze the other way.

Blaine sneezed into the bowl again. Kurt purposely hit his head against the cabinet.

"Why are you doing that?" Blaine asked.

"I don't know," Kurt said as he hit his head again.

"Why don't you know?" Blaine questioned.

"I don't know," Kurt told him, hitting his head once again.

"But why?" Blaine asked.

"I really don't know," Kurt responded, inwardly cheering when Blaine stopped asking him questions.

They continued baking until Kurt sent Blaine to watch _Adventure Time_ on the couch while he put the cookies in the oven.

The next episode started as Kurt went over to sit next to him while they waited for the cookies to cool down.

Blaine snuggled up into Kurt, and hummed some off tune. "I really like Finn because he adventures all the time and Princess Bubblegum plays with him all the time," he told Kurt.

He ran over to his toychest to grab his toy sword and stuffed dog. Hugging them to himself, he tried to bury himself into the cushions next to Kurt.

"Kurt, Kurt, no, Kurt," Blaine tried to get his attention.

Kurt smiled down at him and asked, "Yes, Blaine?"

"Kurt, no, Kurt, pay attention. It's important. Pay attention," he mumbled, grabbing at Kurt's sleeves.

"My favorite episode is when Princess Bubblegum loses her hair because then she's Finn's age and they really like each other, because when she's a princess she's older than Finn and she doesn't like him back," Blaine rambled to Kurt.

Kurt didn't really understand what Blaine was trying to say, but Blaine (like most children) rambled a lot and didn't always make much sense, but he understood that it was important to Blaine so he ruffled his hair and gave him a hug.

Blaine blushed and smiled happily.


	6. Mr Anderson

Kurt held Blaine's hand still as he painted the nails blue and red. His concentration was divided among that task, Blaine's antics, and telling Mrs. Anderson about his day as a part of his post-babysitting ritual.

"And then," he exaggerated, "They tell me that the suits weren't as gay as they thought they'd be."

Mrs. Anderson rolled her eyes and looked to the heavens. "Boys," she said. "Oh, you should have seen Alex and Wes in high school. They thought they were such tough guys," she added, respondent to her son's presence.

"Daddy went to the hospital a lot!" Blaine chips in happily, trying to reach the sparkle nail polish.

Kurt stopped him and raised his eyebrow.

Mrs. Anderson nodded. "Oh, yes. Daddy went the hospital a lot. The fights he and my brother got into! David always ended up calling me from the ER to pick the dummies up."

"Dummies is a mean word, Mommy!" Blaine interjected.

"Yes, it is Blaine. But it is dumb thing to get in fights with big, strong, mean guys," Mrs. Anderson assured him.

She smiled fondly, but with that familiar tinge of worry, "Alex always had that sense of justice. He wanted to protect the little guy, you know? It didn't matter he was only a few inches taller than Wes; he still felt the need to come to his rescue. Even now, he just has so much hope- so much faith in people."

Kurt smiled, but he didn't know what to say. "He's a brave man," he told her.

Blaine jumped in, pride filling him to the brim, "Daddy is super brave, Kurt. Even braver than you, I think, and Mama says that you're really brave. But Daddy will come back, because he said he's fighting the war for me 'cuz he loves me and because he thinks that 'Merica is worth protecting 'cuz it has a lot of good people in it. And I know that's true, because it's got Mama and you and Wessie and Grandma and Grandpa and other Grandma and Mr. Davie and you and, uh, Mama."

Mrs. Anderson gave him a kiss on the cheek and Kurt hugged him. Blaine was too precious.

Kurt finished the last nail and Blaine giggled.

"Mama! Look! Kurt did my nails! I look like Papa and Uncle Wessie and Mr. Davie! Look it!" he said as he proudly showed off his blue and red nail polish.

"Oh, you boys," Mrs. Anderson gushed, "You and that school of yours. The proud alum will have you going to that school of theirs if that's the last thing they do!"

Kurt laughed and nodded. If it was one thing he noticed about the Anderson and Hughes residences, it was the Dalton pride. The crest popped up in the oddest of places, and Kurt was honestly surprised Blaine wasn't already running around in a mini-blazer. Kurt himself had a tough enough time convincing Mr. Hughes that he had no intention of transferring, but that did not stop him from his rave reviews.

"Now I gotta go save the castle from monsters and slushies, so you guys sit here and have fun," Blaine said animatedly, jumping from his chair.

"Hold it, buddy," Kurt said, grabbing him. "The nail polish still isn't dry yet and I don't think your mom would appreciate blue and red streaks over all of her tasteful furniture."

Blaine glared at him and whined, "I am a Dalton knight, Kurt! I can't just sit down 'cuz you say so! I have to save people!" He stuck out his tongue, to which Kurt responded in kind.

"That's enough, boys," Mrs. Anderson laughed.

Kurt laughed and hauled Blaine onto his lap. Blaine giggled and began playing with Kurt's scarf.

"Kurt. Kurt. Do you listen to Katy Perry?" Blaine asked, tugging the scarf off.

"Sometimes," he responded, wrapping the scarf around Blaine's neck.

"Do you like her song 'Teenage Dream'? 'Cuz that's her best song. It's my favorite," Blaine told Kurt, messing with Kurt's shirt.

"That's a good song of hers," Kurt answered. Mrs. Anderson laughed and got up to play the song from the iHome on the counter.

They all sang along until Kurt got up to leave. He said goodbye and hummed the song contently on his drive home.


	7. Miss Jones

Kurt couldn't help himself. Really, he couldn't. Mrs. Anderson had gone a business trip that week, so Mr. Hughes was watching Blaine. Kurt babysat there so Mr. Hughes could work on his latest project without Blaine setting himself on fire or interrupting Mr. Hughes every two minutes.

So it became all the more apparent that Kurt needed to do it.

"Blue and Yellow! Blue and Yellow!" he chanted, waving his arms in front of Blaine.

"Blue and Yellow! Blue and Yellow!" Blaine mimicked. He giggled and kept repeating it. "Blue and Yellow, Blue and Yellow, Yellow and Blue!"

Kurt even drew Blaine a football for him to color in.

Wes walked out of his study, rubbing his forehead. "Gosh, Kurt, you wouldn't believe what my clients want me to do…"

Blaine ran up to Wes and waved his arms. Wes smiled and picked him up, flying him around the room until he sat them both down on the couch.

"Blaine, why don't you tell Mr. Hughes what we did today?" Kurt asked, not-so-innocently.

"Blue and Yellow! Blue and Yellow!" he cried.

Mr. Hughes glared at Kurt. "How dare you. How dare you waltz into my home, my own home, and teach him that."

Kurt laughed as Blaine kept fumbling over the chant.

Mr. Hughes focused on Blaine, "No, Blaine, you say Scarlet and Grey! Scarlet and Grey!"

Blaine, realizing chanting made Mr. Hughes upset, continued to say it, even adding , "Go, Michigan!"

Mr. Hughes released an exasperated sigh and banged the back of his head against the couch. "You are going to be a lot of trouble when you grow up, aren't you?" he asked the ceiling.

Kurt laughed and grabbed his satchel from the armchair. "Sorry I gotta go, Mr. Hughes, but I have to go pick up Mercedes so we can get good seats for _RENT_ tonight."

Mr. Hughes shook his head and Kurt hummed the Michigan fight song as he headed toward the door.

"How do you even know that!" he called.

"It's impossible to live in the Hummel household and not know!" He called back as he shut the door on his way out.

He continued humming the fight song as he walked to his car, "Hail! Hail! to Michigan, the champions of the West!"

Mr. Hughes reaction was as funny as he thought it would be. It didn't take a genius to realize Mr. Hughes took his alma maters seriously. His obsession with Ohio State University was almost as consuming as his love for Dalton Academy.

And if Kurt had learned anything from years of watching his dad scream at the TV, it was that college rivalries were Serious Business.


	8. Mr Thompson

David and Wes drank coffee at the table as Kurt and Blaine ran around the house, squealing and screaming. They had already finished discussing what they had been up to since they had last seen each other and had sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the noises the boys were making, content in knowing Blaine and Kurt were alive and happy.

David set his coffee down and wrapped his hands around the mug. "So…" he trailed.

Wes sighed. "Yeah," he nodded.

David shook his head and stared at his coffee. The two were grateful for their ability to communicate. Almost twenty years of friendship, and they understood each other without needing to say a word.

"What does Alex think?" David asked aloud, finally deciding which question he wanted to ask first.

Wes shrugged. "I don't think he gets it. Lettie sent him an email, but what could we do? It's been over ten years, David."

David leaned back in his chair. After letting out a breath, he said, "What kind of world do we live in that Charlotte's first babysitter is probably the reincarnation of the kid she named her son after? I don't envy you, Wes."

Wes leaned his head against his hand propped against the table. "He has the some of the same baggage, too. Sometimes I don't know if I want to help because I don't want the same thing to happen to him or because I think it'll atone for what I did."

David stared at the ceiling as he responded, "Probably both."

They sat in a contemplative silence before David asked, "When's Charlotte getting back?"

Wes pushed his mug around on the table while answering, "Next week."

They heard Kurt laugh loudly from the spare bedroom Blaine was sleeping in for the week.

"Kurt- he… Charlotte and I have come to accept him as family. God knows how much Blaine loves him. It's weird, because I don't know if it's because he reminds us of Blaine or because he has the same qualities of Blaine's that made us love him," Wes said, silently pleading for advice.

David shrugged. "Still probably both. I can see where you'd have a problem with that. I just want to wrap him in a blanket and beg him to never get himself in trouble like Blaine did," David said, looking in the direction the boys' noise was coming from. "Kurt seems to have the same knack for finding trouble."

Wes nodded. "That's for sure. Kurt and Blaine- the two most unapologetic people I know."

David took of a sip of coffee while nodding. Then he said, "Wes, I wasn't going to say anything, but this coffee tastes like crap."

Wes made a disgusted face and got up to dump his coffee in the sink. "You're right. Why do I put up with this? I haven't had a decent cup of coffee since college- speaking of which," he segued, "Do you know what Kurt taught Blaine yesterday? The Michigan fight song! Can you believe that!"

David laughed loudly. Wes' school pride was nothing short of veneration. "That does sound like something he would do, based on what you've told me," he smiled.

Wes grumbled as he began to make another pot of coffee. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. Next thing you know, he'll be teaching Blaine to say that blasphemous Michigan saying!"

David laughed, "Come on, he's not going to teach him to swear."

"You think it's funny!" he spat. "This is my school pride were talking about! He can't just mock the Buckeyes! He can't mock OSU! It's not right! We live in Ohio!"

David laughed during Wes' rant and Wes winded down. "Ah, but I guess I'll give it to him, he's had a rough week, I take it."

"What do you mean?" David asked.

"He told me the thug who's been harassing him has been particularly brutal with the locker slams. It hasn't gotten bad enough for me to tell his dad yet," Wes explained, sitting back down. "Also, I think he and his best friend aren't communicating. He said that she doesn't get what he's going through and it's really isolated him from her. She doesn't understand and has been acting out because she misses him."

David raised a skeptic eyebrow. "He really told you all that?"

Wes rolled his eyes. "Of course not all of it," he said, "But he's like Blaine, remember? I can read him like a book. Plus, he drops enough hints; you just gotta know what to look for. As for what his friend is feeling, I remember I did quite a lot of acting out. I think I'd understand her motives."

David smiled wryly. "Yes. You would."

Wes sighed and put his head on the table. "I just don't want to have to name my first kid Kurt, you know?"

David smiled kindly and ruffled Wes' hair. "Kurt isn't Blaine, Wes," he comforted him. "What happened to Blaine could never happen to Kurt. You've met Burt Hummel, haven't you? Kurt will never have the same future. It's not possible."

Wes mumbled a thank you into his arms. "Kurt! Kurt! Kurt!" they heard Blaine happily squeal from the other room.

"I miss Blaine," Wes whispered.

"I do, too," David agreed.


	9. Mrs Frisby

Mr. Thompson sipped his crappy coffee while he stood in the doorway between the living room and dining room. Mr. Hughes had run off to the grocery store to grab something to cook dinner with, and Mrs. Anderson didn't get off work for one or two more hours. Kurt was playing with Blaine's dragon as Blaine pretended to make friends with it.

"Oh, no!" Kurt accessed his lower voice range as he sat on the floor, "I'm not evil! I am a good dragon, I promise you! The mean old knights have lied so they could steal my treasure!"

Blaine held his sword up higher and stated nobly, "But if you aren't mean, then why do you have the princess in your cave! That's a bad thing!"

Kurt puppeteered the dragon's arms and said, "Oh, but she is the the daughter of an old knight friend of mine! She must stay here while her dad is out killing the _bad_ dragons!"

Blaine crossed his arms, his sword stood up, and he asked, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Kurt flapped the dragons wings as he said, "Well, I have an idea! You may go on a quest of find this old knight and bring him back to me!"

Kurt stifled a laugh, because the story didn't even make sense anymore, but Blaine was having fun so he continued to play along.

Catching sight of Mr. Thompson watching their little game, Kurt smiled up at Mr. Thompson. He liked the older man, though Kurt kept forgetting that Mr. Thompson was older than Kurt thought. He guessed about early thirties, since that was about the age of Mrs. Anderson and Mr. Hughes, but he seemed younger than them. Mr. Hughes was definitely more immature, but Mr. Thompson had this quiet enthusiasm for life that Blaine had translated into a loud energy.

Mr. Thompson smiled back at Kurt fondly.

Mr. Hughes had arrived home soon, but he couldn't pay attention, he was so busy fixing dinner for Mrs. Anderson to cook when she got home. Mrs. Anderson had been home no more than five minutes before a pot was on the stove and the chicken was in the oven. "It'll be done soon, boys!" she called from the kitchen. Blaine dropped the dragon, which he had somehow come into possession throughout his quest.

Once the food was on the table, Mrs. Anderson went right into telling embarrassing childhood stories about Mr. Thompson and her brother.

"Oh, Wes here, he was a _brat_ when he was a kid! You wouldn't believe the kind of trouble he caused!" Mrs. Anderson elaborated as she waved her fork in the air to emphasize her point.

Kurt snickered into his chicken parmesan as she continued, "Breaking windows, digging up gardens, collecting bugs- you name it!" she exclaimed, throwing hands up.

Mr. Hughes rolled his eyes and said, "Collecting bugs is hardly a high crime and misdemeanor, Lettie."

"It is when you put your '_collection'_ in your sister's _bed_!" she flailed.

Mr. Hughes conspicuously feigned innocence as he responded, "I will assert to my very last that it wasn't me."

Mrs. Anderson sighed exaggeratedly when she caught sight of Mr. Thompson smothering laughter into his hand. "You may laugh, but if I remember correctly, it was you who started the fist fight you two dumbbells got into when you were younger!"

Sitting to the left of her, Kurt raised his eyebrows. Blaine opened his mouth in shock. "I thought Uncle Wessie started the fights all the time!" he cried from Mr. Hughes' left.

Mr. Thompson shrugged and smiled nostalgically. "Oh, your Uncle Wes is just special, Blaine. He's one of the few people who can get me riled up enough to throw blows."

Kurt had to laugh at the image. Mr. Thompson was the person Kurt least expected to get into trouble, but it sounded a lot like Wes. When Mrs. Anderson told Kurt about her husband and brother, the stories always seemed to start with: "Did I tell you about the time my idiot brother provoked so-and-so into attacking him?"

Mr. Thompson continued the conversation by going into detail how his unlikely friendship with Mr. Hughes had formed.

"We were ten or eleven, maybe, twelve," he started, "And the Hughes had just move in. This guy over here," he said as he pointed to Wes, "Was the devil's offspring."

Blaine put his tiny fists to his face as attentively listened to Mr. Thompson continue, "He was a bully and I didn't have the patience for him. I ignored him the first few weeks of summer. That was, until he picked a fight with me."

Mr. Hughes interrupted there, "Excuse me!"

Mr. Thompson waved him off, "You see, Blaine, do you remember the gift I gave you for your last birthday?"

"The books! The books! You gave me the books!" Blaine bounced.

"Yes, and do you remember the one that I gave you for when you're older?" Mr. Thompson prompted.

"_Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nihm_! It was your favorite!" Blaine said.

"Yes, well, Uncle Wessie took my beloved copy of _Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nihm_ and threw it into puddle he created with your grandma's garden hose!" Mr. Thompson told him.

Blaine stared wide-eyed at his pseudo-uncle as his mother giggled from the story and Kurt smiled. "What! How could you do that Uncle Wes!" Blaine gasped, not even using is regular endearment for him.

Mr. Thompson just laughed, "I told you he was a bully, Blaine! But I didn't let him get away with it! When he refused to apologize, I tackled him to the ground and kicked his butt!"

Mr. Hughes protested, "No way, the fight was much more even! I got a few good licks in myself!"

The two men got into a petty argument of who won and by how much. "Anyway!" Mr. Thompson proceeded, "We've been best friends ever since."

Kurt shook his head, once again lacking an understanding for the overwhelming control testosterone had over his gender. Mrs. Anderson laughed, having heard the story way too many times, and Blaine pondered the mystery found in the concept of "best friends." Mr. Thompson and Mr. Hughes held up their hands for a bro-fist and then started sharing embarrassing stories about Mrs. Anderson when they coerced her into "joining in on the fun."


	10. The Little Cheerio

"Tell me a bedtime story!" Blaine begged from his bed. He hugged a dragon stuffed animal in his arms and snuggled deeper into his covers.

"I told you all the bedtime stories I know!" Kurt laughed exasperatedly. Blaine was adorable. He really was. But that could only get him so far. After a long day of babysitting, he just wanted Blaine to _sleep_.

"Make one up!" Blaine cried. Kurt rolled his eyes, and just as he was about to tell Blaine to go to sleep without it, Blaine bit his lip and relinquished his full-potential puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Kurt?"

But, oh. "Okay, okay," Kurt relented as he settled back into his seat by Blaine's bed. "One last one and we're done, okay? No more. You're going to go to sleep and dream about your Dalton knights and dragons, and I'm going to go watch some late night Style on your TV."

Blaine giggled in response, and Kurt started after thinking a moment, "Once upon a time there was a little Cheerio, who lived in a great, big, dark, rectangular space with his parents and all his brothers and sisters, and aunts and uncles, and cousins and second-cousins. It was crowded, but cozy."

Blaine laughed from his bed, "That's silly, Kurt! It's just a Cheerio!"

"Well if that's how you feel…" Kurt trailed as he made to move away.

"No! I like this story! It's my favorite!" Blaine said.

Kurt smiled and continued, "However, there was a problem. Every so often, there would be a huge earthquake that shook his whole home! Everyone would be tumbling and falling! Sometimes a great bright light would fill the Cheerio's whole home and some of the Little Cheerio's family would be taken away!"

Kurt paused as he tried not to laugh at the serious look on Blaine's face. He was making it up as he went along, so he was amused to see such a response. Blaine had sat himself up and rumpled his covers.

"Then, one day, when the earthquake came, the Little Cheerio felt himself falling!" Kurt continued, almost cracking at Blaine's sudden gasp, "'Oh no!' is right! The Cheerio landed in a great, round dish! He was surrounded by his brothers and sisters, and he didn't know where he was or what to do!"

"Then, a great, white waterfall fell from the sky! The Little Cheerio didn't know what it was, but he and his brothers and sister began to float. 'It must be a swimming pool!' the Little Cheerio thought!" Kurt told Blaine.

Blaine began giggling, and Kurt smiled, becoming more and more animated as he told the tale, "Then! Out of nowhere, a scary silver U.F.O came and began scooping up the Little Cheerio's family! Just as the Little Cheerio tried to swim away, he was scooped up and carried into this dark cave full of white rocks!"

Blaine pointed to his teeth and Kurt nodded and laughed at how wide Blaine's eyes were. He calmed down to tell Blaine in a mock-serious tone, "The white rocks began smashing up and down. The Little Cheerio watched in terror as his brothers and sisters were crushed. Just as the Little Cheerio felt as if all hope was lost, he felt himself being pushed toward the back of the cave. He fell a long, twisting slide, and…" Kurt ended.

"And!" Blaine asked.

"And the end!" Kurt yelled.

Blaine laughed and pat his stomach. He finished the story for Kurt, "And the Little Cheerio died a true hero's death, giving up his life for the common good."

Kurt laughed and agreed. "Okay, then, little Blainers, it's time for bed," he said as he got up and pulled Blaine's covers up to his chin.

"No, Kurt! You can't!" Blaine cried, trying to struggle out of the covers.

Kurt tucked Blaine in and told him, "Yes, Blaine, I can. I gave you one last story- now it's time for you to go to sleep."

Blaine glared and rolled over to face the wall. "Night, Kurt," he pouted.

Kurt ruffled his hair and shut the light off as he walked out. "Good night, Blaine."

Kurt headed to the Anderson living room and laid himself down on the couch. As promised, he flipped to the Style channel as he yawned into one of the throw-pillows. As tired as he was, he didn't actually mind babysitting Saturday nights every once and a while.

He curled himself up into the side of the couch and was asleep by the time Mrs. Anderson got home.


End file.
